


Waiting

by amuk



Category: Tsubasa: Reservoir Chronicle
Genre: Community: 31_days, F/M, Fear, Gen, Implied Relationships, Loneliness, Long-Distance Relationship, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-22
Updated: 2013-01-22
Packaged: 2017-11-26 10:56:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/649796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amuk/pseuds/amuk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Waiting is never easy, be it night or day or a countdown of wishes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waiting

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place post-series.
> 
> Day/Theme: Aug. 8 // escape all that waiting and staying

Her days:  
  
She wanders through the busy stalls, the dusty streets making her sneeze when someone brushes by. Murky calls stream past her ears, vendors shouting for attention and shoppers haggling for a better price.   
  
There is always a swell of people here, a swell of strangers and citizens alike. They rush past her, a tide, an unstoppable force, and she likes to stand there sometimes and feel the power of their movement.  
  
It's almost like she's travelling with him. They move her, without a thought or decision, from place to place. One step here, one hop there, and all of a sudden she's somewhere else entirely.  
  
(She can imagine his shaggy brown hair, his kind eyes, and his worried voice. He'll turn and she'll wave cheerfully and whoosh, Mokona sucks them in and spits them out.)  
  
She makes an odd figure, standing there with her hair billowing around her face. The sun beats down on her, making the back of her neck hot, and she lets her senses take over. There, a pie is sitting out to cool. Here, a child laughs and stumbles as he falls. So far, the usual things, the usual sounds, and still she stands there.  
  
If she waits long enough, wants hard enough, he'll be the first thing she sees when she opens her eyes.

 

  
  
Her nights:  
  
She lives in a betwixt world, in one of fantasy and reality. She dances through shape and form, from shelter to storm, and there is no rhythm or reason to her expressions.   
  
A breath (of salty air, of pine trees, of fire and ash), and she exhales sharply as she moves on to the next world.   
  
Dreams, she was told once, are a world of their own. A portal to all worlds, a portal to all places. One simply has to wish for it and they will arrive.  
  
(But wishes are too powerful a thing. They can harm and maim, taking countless lives as hostage, all for the chance to grant one wish.)  
  
Sakura likes to dream, to actually dream and not leave her hot, dry country. Here, Syaoran is safe, here the group is laughing and carefree, here she doesn't have to face reality.  
  
She doesn't know when or how they might meet again, what limbs might be missing, what scars might be hidden. She doesn't know that because they will never tell and she knows better than to ask. When they next appear, a charade will start, one of worries and too-short hellos.  
  
(And there is this fear that he might never appear again, and she'll never know why.)


End file.
